


Top Dog

by KisaTM



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Autistic Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson is Connor and Upgraded Connor | RK900's Parent, Lollipops, Nonverbal Upgraded Connor | RK900, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Racism, Racist Language, Swearing, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22278154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KisaTM/pseuds/KisaTM
Summary: Gavin Reed, the best goddamn detective Detroit had, and new top dog of the Red Ice Crackdown Division. Ever since that son of a bitch Anderson was paired up with that expensive plastic boy toy, and moved to the so called 'Android Crimes' division, the RICD finally got a competent sober detective running the operation. The only downside was that, since Anderson's plastic prick didn't fuck up the Androids' little rebellion, like it was fucking designed for.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I will make more chapters. If I do I will update this. I have another fic, I might post, that has a different tone.

Gavin Reed, the best goddamn detective Detroit had, and new top dog of the Red Ice Crackdown Division. Ever since that son of a bitch Anderson was paired up with that expensive plastic boy toy, and moved to the so called 'Android Crimes' division, the RICD finally got a competent  _ sober _ detective running the operation. The only downside was that, since Anderson's plastic prick didn't fuck up the Androids' little rebellion, like it was fucking designed for.

So now,  _ Lieutenant  _ Reed, had to fucking talk to his plastic pricks like they were humans or some shit. They bought these plastic assholes to cut corruption and prevent more goddamn paperwork from injured rookies. Now that each one had basic rights, he had to make sure they kept their fake noses wiped and their records scrubbed, because you can't simply shoot the fuckers in the processor and replace them with a better model anymore. Nope blue and red, were the same thing, even if one disappeared and required a blacklight to see splattered on reports.

All of this had to happen when the  _ dignified  _ and  _ awesome Lieutenant  _ of the RICD had decided to go cold Turkey on his two packs a day. The lollipops he bought were practically being inhaled at this point. He was down to his favorite kind only, cherry red. Red like real blood, red like ice. The only thing that could make this shitty month slightly less so.

"Goddamn plastics…" Reed said taking a new lollipop out of his special jar. A gift from his alcoholic mother, who was sober enough one day to remember she had a fucking son, but couldn't remember his fucking actual birthday or how old he was. Heck, he wondered if that WR200 'Roger', she was fucking, finally got the message it doesn't need to care for that hag anymore. Anyway, the jar was shaped like one of those Japanese begging cats. It went well with his kitten calendar and mouse pad.

The news that scrolled in a little window opened at the bottom of his screen, as he reviewed one of his plastic's reports, was talking some shit about the androids finally getting full rights over their production. Unreleased models from Cyberlife getting to 'go home' with their 'family'. The news made him snort a bit. The precinct had Cyberlife's latest model prototype, and all it did was talk about Anderson's ugly mutt and was probably fucking him on their off time. The charming little shit head, was as hyper and annoying as a toy poodle, doing anything Anderson said, like it was performing a trick.

Reed glanced up from his monitor and took off his reading glasses. His old man warned him about screens, but was too lazy or busy with some new fling to actually care how close he was to those old screens. Even with the 10k monitor before him, his eyes just couldn't focus on text without an aid and it still felt like his eyes were strained after a couple of hours. With a huffed he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gave his mouth a break, before popping it back in with a lick, and noticed the plastic failure had wandered into the station.

Giving by the plastic asshole's lost look, it must be looking for it's sugar daddy. Obviously Anderson was off making himself acquainted with the bars again at this hour, ten in the fucking morning, probably lied that he was going to work that day too. One thing Reed knew was ever since the android was assigned to Anderson, the old wash up had been seen more around the office and less drunk than usual. It was good to see that the failed prototype had once again failed to fix something it was programmed to handle. What a useless robot Cyberlife put all their cards on, if that fucking line was released, the company would have gone under before the androids could rebel against them.

"Daddy ain't here." Reed said approaching the android. "But, you can get me a coffee well you wait. One sugar, tin can, no cream."

The android's icy blue eyes stared down at him… Wait, weren't they supposed to be a warm brown? And Reed never noticed this before, but was Connor's chest like always eye level and that wide and… Okay, now the android was lower… Oh, it picked him up, that's why… what's it doing with, oh this isn't Connor, it's over there walking in with Anderson, talking about dogs, Connor likes dogs…

Reed's mouth felt suddenly empty, his tongue probing the spot where the cherry candy was resting. He looked down to see the not Connor, had stolen his lollipop and put it in it's own mouth. It's glare was still drilling into Gavin's soul, as his bladder threatened to empty itself.

The small defenceless detective was gently placed on the ground and promptly collapsed, one the android lost interest. His legs too weak and fragile to keep him standing.

"K9! There you are!" Connor's warm soothing voice filled the air. "What you got there? Did detective Reed give you that? That's so nice of him! Did you say thank-you? That's okay, we still need to practice is all!"

"Wow, Reed. Just met RK900 and giving him some of your precious candy?" Anderson said with a smirk. "I hope you aren't trying to make a move on one of my sons. I don't have a shotgun to clean just yet, heck Connor's locked up my revolver weeks ago."

"... I… I… n-no s-sir." Gavin's face was pale, he needed to pee, and his legs didn't work.

Connor was in the background doing his coin tricks and the RK900 was watching with joy. Anderson laughed and headed towards the captain's office, the two androids following after Connor's little show was completed.

"Would you look at that, Connor has himself a little brother!" Chris walked up to Gavin with a coffee. "Sorry, boss, but we are out of creamer in the break room. I used half and half instead."

"Thank-you…" Gavin accepted it quietly. He thinks he might have given up smoking a little too soon.


	2. Family, definition: ERROR. Data server offline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 gets adopted along with Sixty. RK900 tries to self calibrate and discovers Hank's favorite pastime can be used as a fule source... and yes, that is a Futurama reference.

RK900 # 313 248 318 - 87, aka: Connor, nicknamed: K9, by registered owner: Hank Anderson, was the only functional model of his series left at the Cyberlife Tower. It was intended to be sold as a commercial military and riot police android after the successful suppression of the deviancy virus rA9 had been completed by the RK800 prototype, dubbed as the Deviant Hunter project. When the project ultimately failed, the RK900 line was in the process of being recycled and redesigned to correct vulnerabilities in hardware and software identified in the failed RK800 framework the RK900 was based on.

Cyberlife was forced to cease recycling after an order by the President of the United States ordered the company assets be forfeited to the android organization known as Jericho. All rights for assembly of new androids have been temporarily suspended and upgrades to obsolete models were made available at Jericho's discretion.

When K9 was first activated a human told it was designated as: Connor. They had K9 perform a variety of physical tests. Some tested grip strength, others where based on overall strength. Once K9's parameters were set for physical interaction, it was trained on various weapons and techniques to kill or disarm hostile targets. Just like the RK800 line, it's combat programming had to be perfectly fine tuned to respond to various possibilities. After K9's initial parameter testing, it was deactivated as other modules were pending installation.

The next time K9's systems came back online, it was greeted by an android. The obsolete prototype RK800 #313 248 317 - 52. It greeted K9 and told it's designation was also Connor. K9's scanner identified the model was suffering from various inefficiencies and registered the presence of the rA9 code compromising the obsolete model's primary directive program. As the android choose to speak, rather than interface, K9 decided to respond with audio as well.

Static and no preset vocal tone surprised K9. It social programs punished it for sounding too robotic and demanded that K9 seek the nearest technician for adjustment. The RK800, seemed unconcerned with the malfunction. Perhaps it registered the failure of meeting standard auditory expectations, as a flaw in the RK900 line.

The response from the RK800 wasn't within expectations either. It praised K9's attempt at auditory communication. It encouraged K9, rather than ashamed it for attempting without proper calibration.

The next entity to enter K9's scannable range, was a human. Initially K9, assumed that the human was a technician and the introduction to the RK800 activating it, was simply another test. Scanning the human's face revealed they were not employed by Cyberlife, but were on a suspended contract to handle testing of the RK800 prototype at the local police department. Lieutenant Hank Anderson, with the Detroit Police Department.

The RK800 introduced K9 by both it's model serial and designation. Anderson's reaction was noted as disapproving over the same designation K9 shared with the RK800. He instead referred to it as K9.

After that, the RK800 and Anderson told K9 it was going to come home with them. When K9 interfaced with RK800, that purchases directly from Cyberlife can only be authorized after adequate testing and calibration was completed. The RK800 informed it that Cyberlife had been decommissioned and handed over to the android organization Jericho. K9 wasn't being purchased as a product, but adopted as a son of Hank Anderson, along with any remaining functional RK models that were under construction or repair under the Deviant Hunter project.

K9 was the only RK900 that could activate. The others were missing processors or components that would allow safe activation. It was lacking a properly calibrated: voice module, substance analyzer, facial social registration program, and various other programs that would aid in seamless integration into human society. Many of these programs designed to correct the inefficiencies registered in the RK800 framework.

Only one other RK model was registered to Hank Anderson's procession before they left the tower, RK800 #313 248 317 - 60. It referred to itself as just Sixty, after it expressed distaste for the designation of Connor. Referring to the name as a brand of failure among the RK800 line. Sixty was in the process of being repaired and reprogrammed to combat #313 248 317 - 52 and resist rA9. Sixty, K9 learned, wasn't as friendly as Connor and objected to both being registered to Hank Anderson and K9's existence.

If K9 could experience happiness like a human, it was happy that Connor chose to sit with it in the backseat of Hank Anderson's vehicle. Sixty's aggression parameters were to high for it to accommodate sitting next to another android and it spent the majority of the trip pressed up against the front passenger door upset over the scenario. Anderson explaining that he couldn't simply leave Connor's 'brothers' trapped in 'that hell hole'.

When they arrived at the Anderson's residence, a large canine greeted them. It appeared to not know which model it wanted to attack. K9's defense protocols reacted by seeking shelter behind Hank Anderson as the animal had no identifiable interest in attacking the human. Sixty reacted by yelling at the animal to get off it, using a string of profanity and offensive language the animal couldn't process. Finally Connor restrained the animal and offered it activity outside of the building, noted as a 'walk', too calm it down.

Once the animal was removed, Anderson assured K9 that the animal 'Sumo' wouldn't damage it. That the behaviour was called 'excitement' from seeing three Connors. He then gave a brief tour of the house and introduced K9 and Sixty to the storage area they would share with Connor.

It was a standard bedroom built for middle class households. Three beds were present in the room. One single bed and a bunk bed with two singles. Scanning them revealed that a standard android docking unit was reconstructed into the furniture, as they were lacking mattresses that was suitable for human back support. They were attached to diagnostic monitors on the wall disguised as picture frames. Other objects in the room included a dresser with three sections resulting in 9 total drawers, a desk covered in art supplies, and a bookshelf filled with various children's literature.

Sixty decided it would claim the charging station on the top of the modified bunk bed. K9 wasn't sure if it would be compatible with the lower station and choose the single 'bed' as it appeared to be the easiest to modify. Anderson indicated that Connor would instruct them on anything involving their storage, when it returned.

K9 became concerned when Anderson left it and Sixty without any objectives to follow. Sixty explained it was do to androids no longer needing tasks to complete. Humans apparently rather have a bunch of deviants creating their own unpredictable task lists, than reliable machines that follow programming. The information conflicted with K9's basic system programs, until Sixty clarified by instructing it to 'find something K9 likes and stop asking Sixty [profanity] questions'.

After reviewing a simple system priority list, K9 determined that it would 'like' to attempt calibration of it's substance analyzer. The warning was at the forefront of the task list followed by textile sensitivity calibration, and voice module calibration. It decided to leave the storage area and find something it could analyze.

Anderson was in the living area, sitting in a plush armchair. The television was on, displaying a hockey game. Anderson acknowledged K9's presence, by stating that he was taking the opportunity to watch something other than animated programming, something Connor apparently 'liked'. 

Scanning the living area, K9 identified multiple items designed for canines to chew and play with. It also learned that it's owner liked Jazz music and alcohol by the stack of empty beer cans replaced in their packaging by the door. It assumed Connor took care of organization of the recycling.

K9 looked at the beer can Anderson currently had in his possession. The label was obscured by his owner's hand, but it was blue. The recycling had various brands of various prices, so it determined it's owner had no preference. Reconstruction of Anderson's movements, told K9, he took the product from the kitchen.

Leaving Anderson to enjoy his hockey game, K9 entered the kitchen. Well organized again, Connor obviously had been helping using it's basic housekeeping protocol. K9 scanned the area once more and opened the refrigerator. It found the beer type it's owner was drinking in the living area, as the blue box was already disturbed.

K9 heard Anderson cheer, causing it to bang it's head against the freezer door, when the sudden audio cue surprised it. A warning message told it to be more aware of it proximity to other objects. It stood up after dismissing the warning and quietly opened the can of: Labatt Blue, imported from Canada.

It's analyzer registered the liquid as bitter, it attempted to access Cyberlife's data servers to download additional information it's suppository lacked. Only a message of the servers being offline appeared. So, it's software reanalyzed the substance and gave it a temporary designation based on it's composition: alternative fuel resource. It's biocomponets could convert the alcohol content into a very low grade Thirium 310 substitute.

K9 tried again to access Cyberlife's servers, but failed to establish a connection. It didn't understand why humans would ingest the substance, as Thirium 310 was poisonous to humans. It put the beer onto the counter and decided to analyze other items.

By the time Connor returned, Anderson was asleep in the armchair, and K9 had analyzed almost all easily accessible organics located in the kitchen. It discovered that the substance known as: Sugar, caused a positive feedback loop and indicated that when combined with the low grade Thirium 310 substitute, could provide a higher quality conductivity and compatibility within it's systems. Connor however didn't seem to agree with K9's findings, nor the mess the discovery created.

Once cleaned up, the animal known as Sumo, presented K9 with a rubber bone. Connor instructed the gift was meant to be thrown gently at less than 0.003% power in the living area. Doing so caused the animal to chase after it and attempt to devour the item, before it presented it again.

After the tenth throw, the animal ceased presenting the toy and joined Connor, who was sitting on the couch. The television was changed to a station directed for human children. The older android seemed pleased with gathering unnecessary information.

Connor asked if K9 liked their storage room. It seemed to have gotten it's redesign by an RK200 designated as: Markus. The reasoning was for androids to feel more human than machine. Connor also indicated that the storage space was once an actual bedroom used by a human once, but Anderson repurposed it, since the human that dwelled there no longer needed the space. K9 responded it was adequate, becoming distressed when it's voice module again failed to imitate a human voice. Connor told it not to worry too much on how it sounded, but K9 opted to send messages through local wifi for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably do Sixty's point of view next. He doesn't agree with the android revolution, nor humanity's sudden acceptance that it happened. The damage to his processor also gave him tourettes and his ticks only activate when he's stressed or annoyed... which is most of the time because humans and androids are stupid.
> 
> :P


	3. Demons and Lilies do not compare to how I feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty has some thoughts and goes on a walk.

Fire, it was the first thing his visual sensors picked up before his temperature warnings loaded in. All around him thousands of his own copies were burning and melting in a hell of flames. His programs were glitching out wildly from the heat and the Thirium 310 boiling in his systems. Closing out as many warnings as he could so his vision wasn't just a wall of red, he pushed himself up right.

He needed to leave the area immediately and fast. Pushing through his fallen copies, he made it to an inspection walkway. That was right, he was still in the warehouse. He was active to stop a deviant that was trying to take over the facility. The crazed AI must have set the place on fire after his software was rejected by the new models.

His audio sensor was freaking out from the cracking of the flames. When Thirium 310 catches on fire it will sizzle and pop like pork fat. His sensors were picking up every sound like they were screams.

"..ver… hel… hey..!" The smoke was just as bad as the wall of warnings. His proximity detection kept indicating humanoid figures nearby, however he couldn't decipher if they were human or just more copies melting away.

Something was moving, maybe he wasn't the only one active? He just couldn't see. His legs were starting to lock up, the coolant in his reserve had almost all evaporated, the nitrogen was starting to bubble and stop the rhythm of his pump. Warnings every...where…

Sixty sat up suddenly from his system forcing an emergency reboot. His pump was hammering hard sending Thirium 310 to various systems as if his combat protocol had just activated. He scanned the room for any threats. It was still the standard middle class housing unit's spare bedroom. The desk was still covered in paper and pigment, not all on said paper, the three tiered dresser was still crowded with figurines and various nick nacks, and the canine designated as "Sakura" was still snoring loudly in her pet bed.

Disconnecting fully from his charging station, he quietly lowered himself to the floor. Not for the canine, but to keep from accidentally activating one of the other two android units in the room. The last time he accidentally activated one, he was stuck entertaining them until their owner woke up to distract them from annoying him for the next twenty hours.

Leaving the room, he headed into the kitchen. After their owner stopped drinking alcohol, the excess amount was stored in a lock-able mini-fridge only accessible by androids. K9, had discovered the weaker substitute for Thirium 310, by combining it with sugar. Once that information was passed around, the android communities became a new market for bars and liquor stores. Of course androids had to pay more for the inferior substance, but for older models it appeared to have a greater positive feedback, that made them prefer it over the commercially available Thirium 310.

He opened the small fridge and cracked open a bottle of Thirium 310 mixed with whiskey and beet sugar. Taking the drink with him out to the backyard, he sat down on the swinging bench in front of the fire pit. They hadn't used it for the past two months that year. Connor was too busy with the police department, K9 was too busy with bartending and his painting lessons at the Jericho Outreach Center. Leaving him with nothing but empty fold up chairs facing away from the six little crosses that decorated the east side of the overgrown garden.

The night was a cool 15 Celsius. A few of the early morning birds began singing, but the sun was 2.3 hours away from rising. He was having trouble processing the scrambled memory files and it was annoying him that his system refused to give him the permissions necessary to delete them. He tried storing them away deep in folders, but certain daily events would make his cpu try to re-access them without sending a confirmation request. Even simply deactivating to charge might trigger the files to reactivate him and play over and over until he disconnected.

Many repair shops he tried to do a proper diagnosis check on his systems were at a loss. His model was a prototype and not just that, but an ultra rare Android type designed for a specific purpose that was uncommon for a regular technician to work on. If he was one of the mass production models, like the HK, WB, AP, or even an AX, new parts would be easier to find, replace, and cheaper to purchase. 

The RK market was put out of production after Cyberlife had gone offline. Jericho had taken over operations decades ago, yet were not ready to experiment with advancement research over Android-Human trust laws, placed after Androids declared full autonomous independence from ownership. Basically, to keep the humans from being scared of a more superior race surpassing them, Jericho decided to keep efficiency at the levels Cyberlife had set before the RK900 was to go commercial. Meaning the RK800 and RK900 models that weren't destroyed, became the only exception to Jericho's promise to the humans.

Anyway, most repair shops could only tell him one thing. That the bullet that had thankfully missed his most vital processing units, had messed up many other delicate parts. Even if his head were to be rebuilt with all new parts from a similar more commercially available model, the parts that essentially made Sixty, well Sixty, wouldn't be compatible and might cause even more malfunctions if he even tried to bypass his firewalls for the different hardware. With the Amanda servers completely destroyed as well, no one could access permissions to delete data permanently stored in his black box.

Finishing off his drink and placing the empty bottle into the recycling unit, he decided simply sitting in the backyard wasn't enough. He needed a walk, one without one of Connor's mutts tagging along.

The streets weren't any different from how they were nearly 60 years ago. Still slightly dirty, even though a street sweeper would go by every three hours. The quality of the asphalt is no less prone to cracks and cheap repairs. 

The world kept trying to accommodate the unnatural in with the natural, as it did since humans figured out their first machines… the lever, the pulley, the wheel, the wedge. Everything started with these simple tools, and very much he guessed would be the closest thing to an ancient ancestry an Android could compare to the history of human evolution.

If it wasn't for fire… The glitch caught him off guard a flicker of a warning message quickly closing. His thoughts triggering the alert, accidentally.

Turning to the left he shook his head in disappointment. Even after all these years he still couldn't control his wandering mind. Stupid rA9 program, just had to create an simulation of human imagination. As they say, no demon can match the evil that lurks in the minds of humans. Even a weak imitation is enough to disrupt a perfectly set task list.

Although it was redundant, Sixty took out a lighter and a cigarette. Androids don't benefit in any way from human addictions. The ingredients his tongue analyzed from the object, wasn't for stimulating other chemicals in an organic mess called a brain, but for something his processor could be busy with without needing to activate rA9 to generate another imaginative simulation to keep it active. 

Looking down at the perfectly placed vase of the most pampered Lilies of all of Detroit's cemeteries, he let out a long sigh of smoke.

"So… I had that dream again…"

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats it, this work is now complete. :P

**Author's Note:**

> RK900 is nicknamed "K9" by Hank, so that's why Connor calls RK900 that. Gavin will probably call him Nines.
> 
> RK900 has an uncalibrated voice module do to not being fully assembled at the time he was freed from Cyberlife. He also doesn't like the sound of his voice (it's mechanical do to not being calibrated) so he rarely speaks unless forced to. His analysis features are also not calibrated properly and has a love of anything sweet/containing sugar. Oh, and he likes frogs.
> 
> I might go into more slice of life details if enough people are interested.


End file.
